The Dollhouse Society Ultimate Boxset: 21 Books & 5 Shorts in the Dollhouse Society Series

by Eden Myles

  Tiberius came alongside Pepper, and as the two horses greeted each other, he tilted his hat in greeting toward me, though his attention stayed centered on the backs of the two retreating men. “Nellie said I might find you here.”

  “Well, as you can see, I’m here,” I said, trying not to sound as depressed as I felt.

  “That would be Mr. Van Tassel, then,” he said darkly. “A pity he did not stay around so we might become better acquainted.” He looked me over, as was his way. It was a very intimate look. Very…possessive. “Are you all right, Lucky?”

  “I’m fine,” I said primly.

  “Have you given much thought to my offer?”

  “Really, must you be so direct?”

  “I must,” he answered, “seeing how I shan’t be here much longer.”

  “Business in Boston?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “Something…or someone?”

  He offered me a shrewd look. “If you mean, shall I be continuing my quest for a courtesan…then yes. I hear the city women of Boston are more accommodating than the country women of Smithtown.”

  “How dare you?” I cried. It was all too much, suddenly. I felt positively ambushed by predators. “How dare you belittle your proposal to me?”

  I was used to my cousin Rupert shrinking when I used such a tone of voice on him. But Tiberius only narrowed his eyes in insult. “I assure you, Lucky, I belittle no such thing. I gave great thought to my proposal to you last evening. It was not some random romantic notion.”

  “I don’t understand you at all! I have nothing to offer you, Mr. Sloan. I am not some metropolitan woman.”

  “Neither was your mother, and yet she serviced your father admirably all through the years…”

  I reached out and slapped him.

  He looked at me, surprised.

  “Do not besmirch my mother’s name, Mr. Sloan.”

  He touched his cheek with a gloved hand. “I take it your father never explained about your mother…how they met?”

  “They met in church.”

  Mr. Sloan smiled sadly, like a man with a secret. “Yes, of course.”

  “I still don’t understand you,” I told him, feeling hostile. “A man your age should consider taking a wife, not some harlot for a companion.”

  Mr. Sloan laughed at that. “I’m afraid my wife hunting days ended with this,” he said, running a finger down the scarred half of his life. “And besides all that, I am not seeking a harlot. A harlot I can get anywhere. I am seeking a courtesan, a woman who can stimulate me intellectually as well as…other ways.”

  “I am aware of what a courtesan is,” I said, and looked away toward the valley full of shiny, silvery firs glistening in the early morning dew so he would not see me blushing. “What makes you think I should have any experience in matters of…stimulation?”

  “A filly needs no instructions in order to submit to her stallion.”

  “Mr. Sloan!” I cried, appalled by his speech.

  “Yes,” he answered. “Continue to call me that. I should like it if you do. It puts our positions in a better light.”

  “I’ll have no positions with you! And, further, I am not that type of woman at all!”

  “It doesn’t matter to me if you are. You’re an intelligent woman, Lucky. You frequently speak your mind, and more often than not, you speak out of turn. If there is anything you do not know about pleasing a man, I should be honored to teach you.”

  “Such nonsense,” I told him. “I should slap you again.”

  He looked at me as if such a concept was not entirely to his dislike. “Why don’t we let fate decide what your future holds?” he asked.

  “Fate cannot be trusted,” I told him. “I know all too well how fickle fate is, thank you.” But when he remained silent a long moment, I finally turned my horse’s head and said, “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll race you back to the house, Lucky. If you beat me, I shall give you the startup you require in exchange for your services only as my clerk. But if you lose…” He smiled at me like the rogue he was and left things at that. Then he took off at a full gallop, spurring his horse for the trees.

  I had one moment to consider Charlotte and Darcy’s offer. Then I realized I could not possibly impinge upon them that way, and I kicked Pepper into action. She snorted and took off at a full canter down the hill, and soon I was following within yards of Gunmetal. Darkness ensnared us as we entered the timber woods, and then Pepper and I were tearing through the trees at a modest gallop. Up ahead, I could hear the frantic beating of the Suffolk’s hooves as they churned up the earth, and I could feel the exhilaration of the wind ripping through my formerly oiffure hair.

  I did not hurry at first. I had something of an advantage, you see. Pepper was a young mare, and I a small woman. Together we equaled perhaps half the weight of our competitor. In mere seconds, I overtook Tiberius. I offered him an arrogant smile as I flashed past him and through a patch of particularly dense conifers. I even took my riding hat off and waved at him, the long veil trialing after as Pepper and I leapt over a narrow stream, the house just in sight up ahead through the breaks in the trees.

  I was almost to the clearing around the edges of the manor grounds when my bad luck kicked in again. I felt a thick tree branch snag my sleeve, ripping it ingloriously. Then I felt a backwards rush of air as it lifted me off Pepper’s back and deposited me in a pile of pine needles on the forest floor. I dropped like a sack of flour, letting out a great guffaw of breath, and felt a stirring of wind as Tiberius and Gunmetal rushed past me and charged out onto the grounds.

  Sometime later, I limped home and found Tiberius standing at the stables, Pepper’s reigns gathered in one gloved hand. He looked very lordly standing there. Despite my bedraggled appearance, he looked me over as if I were an entry on the dinner menu. “I’ll see you later tonight, my filly.” Smiling, he walked away.

  ***

  Dinner was abysmal. Charlotte kept trying to lift my spirits when I wanted no such thing to happen, and Tiberius kept making references to horsemanship, usually flickering his eyes in my direction. And each time he did, I felt a flutter of panic and dropped my fork or else choked on my food so I just knew everyone was aware my bad luck was acting up tonight.

  The men retired to the drawing room for after-dinner drinks, and Charlotte and I escaped to the gaming room to play Cribbage. It was there that Charlotte finally realized my locket was absent, due to the low cut of my court gown, but I offered her a deplorable excuse about it being repaired in town which I don’t think she believed for even one moment. We played for hours until Charlotte yawned for the first time. Checking the clock on the mantel, she finally jumped up and announced that she really ought to get home before the twins drove the housekeeper crazy. I tried to keep her, and we played a few more rounds, but I knew in my heart that this day had to end sometime.

  With a heavy heart, I retired upstairs. I turned up an oil lamp and noticed that Nellie had thoughtfully started a fire for me in the hearth, but the room still seemed bleak and somehow threatening. I forced myself to sit down at my dressing table and started unpinning my hair when I heard a soft knock on my door. My heart immediately attempted to fly straight up my throat and out of my mouth. Please, God, let it be Nellie! I prayed as I rose to answer it. Perhaps she was bringing me the repaired clothes I had damaged that morning.

  But of course, luck was not on my side. The large, hulking shape of Tiberius Sloan slipped inside my room and closed and locked the door, turning the key in the lock so I felt much like a prisoner.

  I took a step back and hissed, “Did anyone see you?”

  “No, my spirited little filly, no one saw me.” He turned and leaned against the door to glance at me appreciatively. “I like your hair down. It’s such a lovely shade of corn silk.”

  I ignored his statement. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t come. As a child, I used to hide away up here when you visited my father.”

 
“I know,” he said, speaking low. “Am I really so frightening to you? Such an ogre?”

  I blushed that he should be aware of that moniker. “Mr. Sloan, I’m not afraid of you so much as for you. You do know that I am cursed with bad luck?”

  “The witch’s curse. Yes, I remember your father telling me. Do you really believe such nonsense?”

  I lifted my chin. “I know it to be true. I see it in my daily life!”

  “Then perhaps you require a handsome prince to break the curse,” he said, gliding across the floor toward me.

  I backed up until I hit the chair at my dressing table and could retreat no further. “Would you happen to know of any?” I parried.

  He stopped and looked at me, but not with insult. “Such a spitfire, my filly. You do realize that mouth of yours is destined to get you in trouble one of these days?”

  My lips curled in a sardonic smile, and I was about to parry that as well when he pounced on me like a hungry cat on a mouse. He grabbed my chin, jerked my head up, and kissed me. I had never been kissed before. His mouth was hot and very wet and slightly sweet from the port he had drunk. He kissed me like he meant to consume me. It certainly was nothing like the kisses I had read about in the tales of romance in my father’s library! His free hand moved like lightning to the back of my head and he snared it in my hair to keep me in place as his tongue pushed forcefully into my mouth. His hold on my hair hurt, and yet, at the same time, a delightful feeling trilled through my body. His tongue slithered over my teeth and tangled with mine and I heard a low groan come from his throat, a vibration of noise that quickly had me gasping into his mouth in response.

  “You realize a true gentleman would never take advantage of a woman in my position,” I panted, my heart slamming against my ribs like a frantic bird in a cage.

  “I am a gentleman, yes,” he informed me.

  “You certainly don’t act it,” I said as he moved his hand from the back of my head, down my back, and grasped my backside with a startling urgency.

  “There are many definition of what a gentleman is,” he said, his voice a faint growl I could feel vibrating in his chest as he crushed my body against the front of him. The warm, sweetly pungent, male scent of him made my head swim and I could feel the sharpness of his arousal pressing into my belly. “In my case, it means I’m part of the Society.”

  “Society?”

  “It’s what we call ourselves.”

  “And what Society is this?”

  “The same one your father and mother were a part of.”

  “I don’t understand, Mr. Sloan.”

  “You’ll know soon enough, my filly.” He guided me toward my four-poster bed and pushed me down in a puff of skirts and undergarments. He knelt down and started working on my garments like a man excavating through layers of earth and rock to find a treasure beneath. He was very good at undressing a woman, very learned, and within minutes, I found myself in only my chemise and stockings and feeling most exposed. I instinctively covered myself but he forced my arms down so he could look me over at his leisure.

  “You’re quite beautiful under all that nonsense,” Tiberius said approvingly. “Like some tiny alabaster doll. I should like to play with you, Lucky,” he said, and I blushed furiously at his statement. He studied me carefully, drinking in my appearance with his eyes before lowering his head to flick his tongue against my exposed collarbone. I squeaked at the sensation and he reached out and slid his hands up my back to steady me. He buried his face in the side of my neck, his whiskers tickling me. “I take it you know nothing about these matters?”

  “I know enough. I’ve studied human anatomy in my father’s library,” I told him, suddenly breathless, my chest heaving against him. “It’s really quite a natural process, repeated again and again in nature. Pheromones are involved…” I squeaked again as his mouth moved lower and he first licked and then sucked at the tips of my breasts through the chemise, thoroughly wetting the cotton material until it was transparent and my nipples were so hard they hurt. I started making kitten-like noises. That dragged a low growl of pleasure from his throat, and I wondered about all the stories that I had read about the adventures between men and woman. They certainly had neglected to mention the things that Tiberius was doing to me! His hot, damp mouth sucked and sucked until I moaned at the sensation, then I felt his teeth nipping enough to make me wriggle uncontrollably on the bed. A bolt of pleasure ripped through my body from top to bottom and I felt the peculiar sensation of wetness gathering between my legs and blushed furiously at the realization that my body was responding to Tiberius’s ministrations whether I wanted it to or not.

  “Tiberius…” I began, but he quickly cut me off.

  “No. When we’re together, I am Mr. Sloan to you. You should address your gentleman appropriately…”

  “Really, I don’t see the purpose of such formalities…aaaahhhh…”

  He licked, sucked and bit a slow trail down my body, stopping only briefly to wet my belly button with his tongue before moving lower. As he did so, his enormously powerful hands shoved my legs wide apart. He lowered his head and snorted between my legs so I groaned at the sensation, then nearly cried out when his hand found me and his thumb pressed into my wetness.

  “Tiberius…Mr. Sloan…”

  “Yes, Lucky.”

  “I really must insist…”

  “Be quiet,” he said and pressed his thumb inward so hard I jumped and cried out in pure pleasure. In the past, both Charlotte and I had experimented with such things, usually with dismal results. Despite the things we had read about in her father’s copy of the Kama Sutra, we had seldom been able to drag any kind of reaction from our own bodies. Mr. Sloan had no trouble at all. “Listen to me, Lucky. You’ll feel a pinch of pain, but it won’t last very long,” he patiently explained. “You can take far more than you think.” As he slowly and forcefully nudged two fingers inside my body I began to whimper and thrash, trying to move away from the pain, but he didn’t relent. He climbed up on the bed and pinned me beneath his weight and kept forcing his way inward until I felt a burst of pain shoot deeply, and briefly, inside of me. When he finally withdrew his fingers, they were covered in streaks of blood.

  “Oh,” I said in wonder.

  He looked at me before bringing his fingers to his lips to lick. “It’s quite natural, Lucky, I assure you. A woman’s first time is often marked by blood. It’s nothing to be concerned about…”

  “Yes, I know. But this is the first time I’m seeing any such thing. It’s quite interesting, isn’t it? Almost like some rite of passage.”

  He looked bemused. “I don’t understand.”

  I took a deep breath and explained to him what I had never explained to anyone except Charlotte, and my father. “I don’t…I mean…the curse…you see, it has quite passed me by.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t menstruate?”

  I winced at his words, that he should be so frank. I lifted my chin proudly so he would not think I was too ashamed. “You may as well know now, Mr. Sloan. I am barren—unable to bear children. So now you know my terrible secret. The witch’s curse has robbed me of even this. I cannot have children, and, as a result, I shall never have a husband.”

  I had hoped the information might deter him. I knew that no man wanted a woman who could not bear him an heir, a woman who was not really a woman at all! But, if anything, he seemed even more fascinated by me. He pushed the skirt of my chemise to my waist and lowered his head so the most private parts of me were exposed to him. I tried to close my legs but his big hands held me open for his perusal. His hot breath touched me, made me tremble, and then he began to lick tenderly at the pain he had caused me earlier.

  Another thing my father’s books had not prepared me for! I squirmed and moaned as he licked and suckled me there. The pain had finally lessened, and now only a warm euphoria spread out from the place where his tongue and lips touched me. I sank my fingers into his dark, lush hair, and it wasn�
��t very long before I started moving my hips against the wonderful, almost drowsy, bliss of his mouth. My stomach muscles tightened and I started thrusting rather urgently against his face.

  “You might be barren, Lucky, but you taste delightful,” he told me, his tongue tracing a warm, insistent path all along my long, wet slit.

  I tried to answer but all that came out of my mouth were garbled whimpers.

  “Do you enjoy that, Lucky?” he asked, lapping at me and probing into my soreness with his hot, wet tongue. “Do you like what I’m doing?”

  I made more of those strangled whimpers.

  “I’ve finally found something to hush you up,” he said, and the vibration of his voice against my oversensitive flesh made me thrash wildly against him. Finally, he slid his hands under my backside and dragged me forward so I was sitting on just the edge of the bed. He forced my shoulders down onto the bed so I was at a better angle to be serviced by him and then returned to the task at hand. His wet mouth swallowed me, sucking harder and harder, so that very soon my entire body writhed, my stomach quivered, and I began convulsing like some madwoman, thrashing against the bedclothes, tossing my head from side to side and mewling as my body jerked spastically in his arms and against his mouth. More wetness gushed from me and was hungrily licked up by Mr. Sloan’s skillful mouth. It didn’t last very long, and I was trembling when it was over, but at the same time, I wanted to do it all over again.

  But Mr. Sloan had other plans. He had undone his trousers, and I soon learned how wrong Charlotte was about her socks theory. Mr. Sloan’s thick, well-veined cock lay stiffly against the ridged flatness of his un-corseted waist, reminding me of the horses during their mating season. “I really do wish to be inside you, Lucky,” he said, looking down upon me both tenderly and fiercely at the same time. “You have no idea.”